Chapter 72

Li Biyuan spoke first: “Sister Tan, she’s so young! Don’t bully her like this!”

Mu Qian Tan said: “Raise a disciple for a thousand days, use them for a moment.”

Li Biyuan roared: “Where are those thousand days? And Sister Tan, when have you ever raised her? She grew up strong purely because she’s tough as nails!”

Mu Qian Tan pretended not to hear.

The girl on the stairs had no objections and jumped down a few steps: “Can’t walk anymore? Tired?”

Mu Qian Tan said: “This mountain isn’t worth climbing.”

Shang Shan turned her back, leaned forward slightly, and muttered: “Is there a difference in climbing mountains?”

Mu Qian Tan looked at the person in front of her and gauged the height with her eyes.

It hadn’t even been a full year since they first met, so there shouldn’t have been much change, but kids that age grew like bamboo shoots after rain, shooting up fast. Her head now reached Mu Qian Tan’s lips, and standing one step higher, she looked a bit taller.

Still, her shoulders remained slender and immature, her face carrying the clear youthful innocence of a girl, lively and spirited.

Mu Qian Tan just didn’t like seeing this person taller than her. Dissatisfied, she said: “If you’re standing up there, how am I supposed to get on your back?”

“Then I’ll come down.” Shang Shan wasn’t annoyed and backed down one step. Finding it still inconvenient, she went down another and bent her knees: “This okay now?”

Mu Qian Tan was finally satisfied and moved to climb onto her back. As her arms looped around the girl’s neck, a fresh, crisp fragrance unique to young girls wafted from her hair into Mu Qian Tan’s nose.

Her movements paused. Mu Qian Tan suddenly realized that this position meant unavoidable body contact. Even through winter’s thick clothes, the other person’s scent and touch couldn’t be avoided.

As she pondered this, Shang Shan had already bent down and reached back to scoop her up under the knees. Mu Qian Tan jolted and immediately pushed her away: “Wait.”

Shang Shan staggered from the push: “What’s wrong?”

Mu Qian Tan was silent for a moment. The sensation of her knees being touched lingered, still hard to accept. Not wanting to force herself, she turned and continued upward: “This mountain isn’t worth climbing, but the scenery is decent. No rush to get up.”

Shang Shan blinked and drawled: “Fine…”

Supporting her aching legs, Mu Qian Tan set off again, now with someone extra at her side.

This time, Shang Shan didn’t complain about hunger or rush ahead. Instead, she strolled slowly beside her, sneaking glances now and then, all sneaky-like.

She was like this every day, all inexplicably weird. Mu Qian Tan let her be. After another stretch, her fatigue became more obvious, impossible to hide. Shang Shan said: “Let me carry you after all.”

She seemed eager to try.

Mu Qian Tan thought for a moment, pulled a thin rope from her storage pouch, stretched it taut on both ends, tested its strength, and said: “Go pick some sticks and make a chair.”

She tossed the rope to her. Shang Shan caught it and lifted her face: “Do you dislike me that much?”

Mu Qian Tan said: “A bit.”

Shang Shan huffed: “Then I won’t carry you!”

Mu Qian Tan said: “Great. Hurry up to the top and stay at this Luminous Temple. I won’t take you back then.”

What master in the world threatened and enslaved their disciple like this? But she did it naturally, righteously, without a hint of embarrassment. It proved her words right—thicker skin meant a freer, more comfortable life.

Shang Shan gripped the rope tightly, indignant, stomped her foot hard, and dove into the snow to gather a pile of sticks. She dumped them on the ground with a clatter and, with her beginner-level carpentry skills, slapped together a rickety, wobbly chair soft as a rope bridge.

She tied ropes to both ends of the rope chair, left a length free in front, looped it back over her shoulders. Huffing, Shang Shan said: “This work?”

Mu Qian Tan walked over, sat on it facing away to test. The chair let out a dying creak but held, barely.

As she sat, Shang Shan’s knees buckled, her legs bending. This back-to-back carry was far more tiring than normal piggyback. She had to bend even lower. Then she heard from behind: “A bit uncomfortable, but it’ll do. Let’s go up the mountain.”

Shang Shan puffed her cheeks and took step after laborious step toward the summit.

No effort needed for climbing, so Mu Qian Tan had energy to admire the mountain views—mostly endless white, tiring after a few glances. She pulled out a book to review spells, tracing in the air above the pages. When the feel wasn’t right, she considered trying on the girl beneath her but worried about her tripping and both tumbling down. Better not.

The sun gradually reached its zenith and slid west. Mu Qian Tan could hear the girl’s clear, rapid panting. Rested enough, she glanced back to confirm the summit ahead and patted her shoulder: “Let me down.”

Shang Shan set her down, face flushed red, legs trembling: “What is it?”

Mu Qian Tan said: “I can walk the rest myself.”

She took the rope chair from Shang Shan’s shoulders and hid it in the nearby snow, making sure it wasn’t visible from outside. Satisfied, she nodded. Every hall master’s training lasted a month; this might come in handy tomorrow.

Shang Shan kept wiping sweat from her forehead, catching her breath. She took off her cloak and draped it over her arm. Pale golden spiritual power flowed through her limbs, pure and shimmering. They called it training Mu Qian Tan, but who knew who ended up more exercised.

The two walked side by side up the final stretch and reached the summit. Far off, white clouds rolled, gilded by brilliant sun. Nearby stood a mountain gate. Passing through, at the end of white stone tiles, a temple stood quietly—the Luminous Temple.

Compared to the First Immortal Gate Hall Master’s status, compared to her flashy Azure Palace, this temple looked extremely low-key. Gray walls, black tiles, eaves slightly upturned, plain and sparse, exuding refined elegance. No ostentation, yet it had a subtle grandeur hidden in the temple’s charm.

The two approached together and ran straight into Xie Mei. She held a whisk, clad in black robes. Hearing movement behind, she turned. The black veil behind her lotus crown swayed, her long hair pinned neatly, her face naturally stern. Anyone less resolute would kneel in submission.

Seeing them, she said: “You’ve made it up?”

Shang Shan said: “Greetings, Jade-Selecting Immortal.”

Mu Qian Tan stepped over the threshold, neither warm nor cold: “Immortal so high and mighty—truly hard to meet you.”

Xie Mei didn’t spare her a direct glance and stepped aside: “Meal is prepared. Follow me.”

Mu Qian Tan watched her enter the side vegetarian hall and snorted coldly before following.

Xie Mei had no disciples and preferred solitude in these deep woods, so the temple lacked serving immortal children. The hall had only one table, simple and plain.

The table was spotless, set with two identical place settings for facing diners. Good thing the square table was wide enough, or it’d be awkward.

Mu Qian Tan sat first. Xie Mei looked to Shang Shan: “How much do you eat?”

Shang Shan, just sitting, replied: “Not much.”

Mu Qian Tan nearly burst out laughing. Bottomless pit of a girl, always bragging, but low-key when she shouldn’t be.

Not much. An answer too vague for portions. Xie Mei frowned slightly: “One bowl of rice, or half?”

“…” Shang Shan glanced at her master, scanned the austere hall, and got it. Firmly: “Half a bowl is plenty.”

Xie Mei nodded slightly and went to the side room. Probably hadn’t expected Shang Shan, no prep done. Now she went to serve rice.

Shang Shan scooted next to the woman and whispered: “Master, is Jade-Selecting Immortal poorer than you?”

Mu Qian Tan’s amusement vanished. Face cold, her hand under the table shifted to the girl’s thigh and pinched hard: “Whose fault is my poverty?”

Her biggest monthly expense was this rice-guzzling Brain-Damaged Dragon’s food. And she dared mention it!

The pain shot straight to her brain. Shang Shan bulged her eyes, scream nearly escaping, but remembered it was someone else’s home and clamped her mouth. Her body and face twisted in agony, head dropping to thunk the table edge like a drum. She crumpled and shook.

Xie Mei emerged with a wooden tray to this deformed girl.

Shang Shan clutched her twitching thigh, face forced into a smile like painted on, strained joy.

Xie Mei watched quietly, went to the table: “You sitting here?” She asked Shang Shan but eyed Mu Qian Tan.

Shang Shan said: “Huh? Then where should I sit?”

Mu Qian Tan hadn’t caught the implication at first, but replaying the words and that obvious pointed look, she guessed.

Just master-disciple hierarchy—improper to share a table, lacking etiquette. Wanted her to teach manners. Old-fashioned prude.

Pretending not to notice, she said: “Sit here. Don’t fidget like a big flea.”

Flea Shan stared in disbelief, rubbing her thigh furiously while sulking. Xie Mei, though displeased, said little. She set the tray down but picked up her own portion and placed it before Shang Shan: “Eat this.”

Besides two small veggie dishes, the bowl brimmed with plump white rice. Shang Shan held it: “Will half a bowl be enough for Immortal?”

Xie Mei curtly: “Enough.”

Mu Qian Tan was a bit speechless. Pushing rice back and forth?

But considering this woman’s rigid, ruler-measured life, it wasn’t hard to guess: she strictly portioned meals daily, no waste. Unsure of Mu Qian Tan’s appetite, hence the extra half bowl.

Nothing to say there. Mu Qian Tan disliked stuffy old ways, but cherishing food was right.

Xie Mei chanted grace, picked up chopsticks: “Eat.”

One bowl rice, two veggie dishes, clear vegetable soup, pickled veggies—that was it, no meat. Even Mu Qian Tan found it bland, let alone Shang Shan.

Fearing the immortal across would notice, she ate at her slowest ever pace but still finished, chipping the bowl rim and snapping a chopstick end, swallowing both.

Spotting this, Shang Shan was shocked, presented the mangled bowl like confessing for mercy.

Abiding no-talking-while-eating, Xie Mei just shook her head, eyed no problem, and continued.

She ate methodically, uniform bites. By the last, bowls shone clean. She wiped her mouth, chanted more grace: “Rest this afternoon. Practice Eight Brocades with me at dusk.”

All planned out.

Mu Qian Tan went to her room—small, hastily prepared, sparse furniture, just a bed with clean new bedding.

She lounged on it, smelled soap fragrance: This Jade-Selecting Immortal wouldn’t hand-wash all her own clothes and sheets, would she?

No one else in the temple daily, so yes.

Imagining the stern woman, who disliked her, forced by sect leader to host and train her, cleaning rooms, washing sheets by the river—Mu Qian Tan felt inexplicably pleased.

Making disliked people unhappy was always her joy source.

Shang Shan entered, bedding down on the floor by the bed edge. Lifted clothes to check thigh: “It’s all red!”

Pinched hard pre-meal on tender skin, now a scary red-purple patch.

Mu Qian Tan glanced, rolled over back-to: “Sleep.”

Climbing wasted time; post-lunch nap, sky turned orange on waking.

Mu Qian Tan sat up, rubbed sore legs. No one on floor beside. Pondering, Shang Shan slunk in dejected: “No rabbits on this mountain. No meat.”

Had gone hunting unsatisfied.

Mu Qian Tan eyed her hands: “What’s that?”

Shang Shan held closer—a handful crushed ice on twigs. Shoved in mouth, crunched: “Just to tide over.”

Mu Qian Tan: “…”

Steel stomach power, again.

Later, Xie Mei called. Three practiced a set of Eight Brocades in the yard.

First time, mimicking was easy, but precision took work. Xie Mei strict, no errors—learning was tough. Mu Qian Tan didn’t mind, showed rare patience.

After all, Xie Mei was a professional. This stuff could really improve one’s physical fitness—all benefits and no harm. Not learning it would be a loss.

After finishing the exercises, she urged them to run laps around the observatory, along with some basic techniques whose names Mu Qian Tan couldn’t recall, all meant for strengthening the body. After completing a full set, Mu Qian Tan was drenched in sweat, too exhausted to stand, and sat by the pool to catch her breath.

Shang Shan adapted well. She squatted nearby, hugging the large gourd Xie Mei had given her, tilted her head back, and gulped down water, her belly gurgling.

Xie Mei showed an appreciative look on her face. It was clear she was very satisfied with this disciple. Unfortunately, no matter how satisfied she was, the disciple belonged to someone else. She looked slightly regretful, shifted her gaze, and gave Mu Qian Tan one last glance, as if displeased by whatever she saw. She said heavily, “Continue tomorrow.”

With a flick of her whisk, she floated away.

Mu Qian Tan propped herself up by the pool’s edge, her body tilting slightly. She didn’t even have the strength to stand and retort.

Shang Shan set down the gourd, wiped the water from her lips, and offered it up. “Do you want some?”

She extended it, then pulled it back and hugged it tightly to her chest. Shang Shan eyed her. “You definitely wouldn’t. You look down on me so much; there’s no way you’d drink water I’ve already had.”

Mu Qian Tan rolled her eyes at her, too lazy to respond. After resting a bit longer, she untied the water pouch from her waist and drank slowly.

She recalled all the exercises from today’s training, laying them out one by one in her mind. She picked and chose, selecting those she could handle for long-term practice. As for the others—like mountain climbing—she decided to steer clear.

Her spiritual cultivation was sufficient; she didn’t lack spiritual power reserves in her body. What she lacked was constitution, so Xie Mei had hit the nail on the head this time. But she had clearly overestimated herself, thinking these were the most basic of basics, not expecting that she herself was a cultivator who couldn’t even reach basic standards.

She sat there watching the twinkling stars in the sky for a while before dragging her legs back to her room. She found a place to bathe, then crawled into bed and passed out. Perhaps due to exhaustion during the day, she had no dreams that night.

Before dawn the next morning, the two were woken up. They first practiced a set of fist techniques, then went to eat: a small dish of vegetables, a bowl of porridge, and a steamed bun—portions prepared for three.

After eating, Xie Mei waved her whisk in the garden and summoned a red-crowned immortal crane over two people tall. It was smaller than White Pupil but had bright eyes, black and white and distinct—a healthy, intact immortal crane.

The three mounted the crane’s back and flew down to the foot of the mountain. Shang Shan jumped down into the snow. Mu Qian Tan also leaped off, pondering in her mind that she hadn’t brought the chair and would probably have to make a new one. She turned her head and discovered Xie Mei sitting on the crane’s back like a solemn jade statue, legs crossed, looking down at them with no intention of leaving.

“. . .” Mu Qian Tan asked, “Is the Jade-Selecting Immortal going to watch us climb the mountain?”

Xie Mei said, “More observation means discovering more problems. I just want to watch up close, to understand you better and teach according to your aptitude.”

. . . This was pure nonsense, right? What could she possibly learn from watching them climb a mountain? She must have noticed Mu Qian Tan cheating with borrowed strength last time and wanted to monitor her personally.

Mu Qian Tan stood in place for a moment. Seeing that Xie Mei showed no sign of moving and really intended to watch, her expression darkened a bit.

Ridiculous! She wouldn’t climb a single step of this mountain today!

Shang Shan was already planning to gather branches, but she remembered there was no rope and was about to ask for some when Mu Qian Tan grabbed her and pulled her aside. She heard the woman say, “Jade-Selecting Immortal, wouldn’t it feel like a waste to spend your time on me?”

Although she could have directly admitted her poor stamina and inability to climb mountains, how could she say “no” in front of this old stickler?

She often claimed to have thick skin, but face mattered in front of certain people! She absolutely refused to show weakness, so a trade would be better.

Xie Mei said, “I’m following the sect master’s orders. Willing or not doesn’t matter.”

Mu Qian Tan curved her lips. “Let’s be frank. You don’t actually want to supervise my training, and I don’t want to follow your pace for physical cultivation. Since neither of us wants this, why not go our separate ways? I’ll train my way, and you do what you want. How about it?”

As she said this, she vaguely understood Panxiang Yin’s intentions. In the Tianyu Sect, aside from the sect master, only a hall master could keep Xie Mei in check. Who else could suppress her if not handed over to one of the four hall masters?

Xie Mei asked, “What I want to do?”

Mu Qian Tan pulled the girl over and said solemnly, “I have a disciple here. She’s a bit slow-witted, but her body is tough and sturdy, born with bones of steel and iron—perfect for the body refinement techniques you specialize in. They don’t suit me at all.”

“She’s disobedient, always talking back to me. Last night, she even said she admires you and wants to learn techniques from you. . . .”

Mu Qian Tan patted the girl’s shoulder, looking earnest. “Immortal, you cherish talent so much and can’t bear to see fine jade go to waste. So for this month, instead of teaching someone like me who has her own plans, why not teach this foolish disciple of mine?”

Shang Shan: “Huh?”